Being Taken For A Ride

You may or may not remember that, in the past, I’ve waxed eloquent about my love of heavy machinery, specifically forklifts. I used to think the pinnacle of existence would be to tool around my neighbourhood, rearranging picnic tables, delivering pallets, and rescuing those who had had pallets fall upon them mostly (because my stacking of said pallets wasn’t quite up to snuff because I’M JUST LEARNING). But I’m in my late 50s now and it occurred to me that I might have to give up the forklift fantasy. I was initially very sad, but then something ostensibly even better happened. Our neighbour, small engine mechanic extraordinaire and Ken’s boss (as a retirement gig, he does paperwork and deliveries for the mechanic) messaged to ask if we were interested in the John Deere riding lawnmower that he had just refurbished. INTERESTED?! I didn’t even ask how much money he wanted. I just ordered Ken to text him back immediately before he sold it to some other late-middle-aged agricultural aficionada. Ken and I were, of course, about to embark on our European adventure, so we agreed that we would take possession when we came back, which gave me plenty of time to anticipate the day I would ride the majestic Deere like the gardening guru I longed to be.

So when we got back from holidays, Ken went to work and came home later driving the lawnmower (the mechanic lives directly across the street from us), and I was a little upset because I wanted to be the first to drive it. But I forgave Ken immediately once I saw the shiny green and yellow vision ensconced on the front yard. I was dying to mount it as one would a gallant steed and carve perfect diagonal lines into my lawn; alas, rain was in the forecast for the next few days. But last Monday, it was a glorious morning, the grass was negligibly long, and we were having company, so I begged Ken to back the dear John Deere out of the garden shed where it was being housed. Why didn’t I do it myself, you ask? Because I don’t reverse well. Obviously.

The shiny new-to-me lawnmower was now perfectly positioned, facing the correct way and ready to mow. I hopped on—the seat seemed comfortable. I turned the key, with Ken looking on jealously.

Me (yelling): Holy f*ck! That’s loud!
Ken (yelling back): Do you have any headphones to protect your ears?

I hadn’t thought about that. I turned the machine off and went into the house to source some headphones, which I found tucked away in a drawer. Now, I was REALLY ready to mow. I started the engine again—the sound was nicely muffled. Ken explained how to put it in gear, lower the deck, engage the blades and whatnot, and off I went. Ten minutes later:

Ken: How’s it going?
Me (yelling because I’m wearing noise-cancelling headphones): OH MY GOD, I F*CKING HATE THIS.
Ken: Huh? Why?!

Because our lawn is lumpy and I had just spent the last ten minutes bouncing up and down on a lawnmower seat and the vibrations had caused a histamine reaction in both my butt AND my boobs, and I was so itchy I could barely stand it–that’s why, KEN. Also, I was having difficulty gauging how low-hanging our tree branches were and managed to whack myself in the face numerous times whilst simultaneously knocking my stupid headphones off.

Ken: Oh, is that why you kept screaming? Do you want me to finish the lawn for you?
Me: No, I do not. I’m a grown-ass woman and I will do it.

And I did it. Every minute was torture. The only saving grace is that when I was finished, I got off the demon machine and observed the property. There was a noticeable lack of diagonal lines; in fact, most of the lines were circular and criss-crossed each other haphazardly, but the grass was now a respectable length and everything looked quite pretty.

Ken: Did you want to do the weed-whacking as well?
Me: What do you think, KEN?

And then I went into the house and poured a glass of wine. Yeah, yeah, it was only 11 in the morning but I deserved it. And if Ken ever wants me to mow the lawn again, he’ll have to install a cup holder.

59 thoughts on “Being Taken For A Ride”

  2. I got one go on a riding lawn mower, and I’ll concur it’s nowhere near as fun as it looks. But I’d gladly take the torture over running a push mower through my huge backyard on hot summer days.

    I’ve never been certified for the forklift at work, but I do run the indoor pallet stacker, which isn’t a rider. That’s enough fun for me, as it means I don’t have to go outside in the rain/snow/cold/heat/etc…

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  3. You still want a forklift, though, right? Because forklifts have a hood so even if you drove under low-lying branches they’d be knocked aside. Also you’d mostly drive a forklift around a warehouse where there are very few low-lying branches. And also very few bumps in the floor. At least the riding lawnmower does sound like riding a horse. But lower, more predictable, easier to bring to a stop, and horses don’t eat nearly as much grass as lawnmowers.

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  4. Very cool, though! I got to ride my dad’s riding lawnmower when I was a kid. I do remember it being bumpy–and the field of grass we were mowing got very hot in the summer, so there’s that too. My dad’s mower was from Sears, and there were two speeds: “bunny” and “turtle.” Bunny was not that much faster than turtle. It still took a long time to cut the grass.

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  5. So maybe it’s safe to say that Ken just needs to breakdown and get you a forklift? I’m just saying, riding mowers aren’t the most comfortable. But a forklift is as smooth as buttah….lol. Okay I’m exaggerating but a forklift doesn’t have to tread through uneven lawn.

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  6. My wife and I had a garden tractor like that, and it lasted 5 mows here at our farm. Five! We’ve since upgraded to this lovely piece of equipment. The ride is like being in a car, and it’s not nearly as noisy (there is a muffler). If you come to visit, I will absolutely take you for a ride on our tractor and give you a free tour of the farm.

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  14. What! No cup holder?! I was 46 when we bought our tractor and I learned to drive it. I learned to use the bucket for digging and/or moving dirt, stone, mulch and other things. I also learned to use the brush hog, roto tiller and rear blade but my husband is the one who hooks up the attachments to the tractor. I’m good at backing up the tractor unless it’s towing a trailer. Then all bets are off.

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  15. LOVE LOVE LOVE my John Deere. (of course I do have a cupholder and a cup with a closeable lid) Other than saving me so much time, it keeps all the “I needers” away, no one approaches me to ask for anything!

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  16. My dad had a riding lawn mower when I was young. I remember riding on it with him. It wasn’t a John Deere. I want to say it was orange with a white seat. That was a very long time ago. I wonder what happened to it. Ah well. Glad you got to give yours a try. I think I’d rather have a golf cart with a cupholder in it! 🙂 On to your next adventure! May your seat be comfortable and your wine plentiful! Mona

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  18. It definitely looks more fun than it is, Suzanne. Those things don’t turn well and that does a number on those nice straight lines. I used to mow our field. That lasted about a month and then we decided to just let it grow wild. 🙂

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  21. I was laughing so hard I think I might have woken my husband napping in the other room. This is too funny!

    Once time my sister-in-law let me try her ride-on mower, and the wheel got stuck and I plowed right through a bed of flowers in the middle of her lawn. I can’t believe she didn’t chase me off her property.

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